I Would See You Unscarred
by Raven Sinead
Summary: Personal take on the Marjolaine story arc. F/Cousland and Leliana. Will be POV switch between both of these characters. Dialogue will not entirely follow the game. Story Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: All characters and lands belong to Bioware. I own nothing, just enjoy the universe.**

**Salem Cousland**

"Do what you need to do and get back to camp." I told the others. "Keep as low a profile as you can."

"Sod it." Oghren groused. "First chance to buy a decent brew since Orzammar and ya gotta go and say play it close to the vest."

"We can't risk exposure." Leliana broke in, smiling just for me. "I know for one I don't want to be in Loghain's prison."

Her eyes filled with nightmares for a single moment. I knew no amount of sheer joy would remove them completely. Our errand was of a grim nature, one that would drag her back, kicking and screaming, to that hell she called her past. I only prayed I could be there for her when all was said and done.

"Denerim is more dangerous than it seems." Wynne agreed with me. "Salem is right. Finish your business and get back to camp."

"Yes," Alistair drawled. "I'm sure Morrigan is _dying_ for us to return and keep her company."

I laughed and we went our different ways. I walked beside Leliana, unsure of what to say. These feelings between us were so new, and already being tried and tested. _What lines are drawn between us?_ I wondered. _I'm too afraid to overstep; too scared to draw away. Maker, tell me what she needs._

As if in answer to a voiceless prayer, Leliana's hand slipped inside mine.

"Are you all right?" I dared to ask.

"No." she whispered. "I wish that I could step away from this moment, let someone else slip into my body, and watch this like the plays I once saw in Orlais."

"I wish I could give you that opportunity. You know, Leliana, you didn't have to come. Alistair and I would…"

"I know what you would have done." she interrupted. "And while I am grateful, you know enough of me to understand that I must do this myself. I must see Marjolaine with my own eyes."

"But why just take me?" I asked. "Why not bring along Wynne, or Alistair? They're trustworthy."

She smiled again and my heart leapt. Strange, that moments like this reminded me of my youth. My family's massacre had propelled me into bloodshed and death, betrayal and intrigue. Funny, that even in the midst of this hell, I could claw out some happiness and give my heart to love. I wished I could have talked with my mother about this…although the lecture about the lack of grandchildren would have chafed.

"Dear Salem, you are the only one I have let peer into my heart. It is no longer something I give away easily. You must think me very selfish, asking and allowing only you when numbers would endanger us less."

I stopped her in the alley and stared into those gorgeous blue eyes. "I trust your judgment, and you. If you think the two of us alone can deal with Marjolaine, I am content."

"Be careful, Salem." she touched my cheek. "Your nobility is showing."

"Ha!" I scoffed. My father was known for the unorthodox ways in which he raised his daughter. I had been the laughingstock of the bannorn. _I wonder what they would think if they could see me now, two swords hanging from my back, wearing plate armor, charging into battle against darkspawn, werewolves, abominations…and in love with an Orlesian bard._

"You laugh, but it is true. Despite your warrior ways and tattooed skin, you are every inch nobility."

"Then I should fear for my life." I grinned. "Or so your stories have led me to believe."

Leliana shushed me as a patrol of Loghain's soldiers passed be. "Hush, my love." she cautioned. "Do not jest of things too close to truth. It invites misfortune."

"Because the fact that the arch-demon can sense me doesn't already invite such things."

"Your dark humor is so charmingly Fereldan." she shook her head, though her tone held amusement. "And it is something both you and Alistair have in common. Although, for some reason, Morrigan finds yours amusing and his appalling."

_Morrigan, right. We need to finish this quickly before she enchants our bedrolls to strangle us tonight._

"I cannot even pretend to vaguely understand that one." I took Leliana's arm and guided her down the alley. "I know this will be difficult, Leliana, but I'm here for you. I promise you that I will not let Marjolaine harm you again."

"Can you promise me one thing?" Leliana asked.

"Of course." I agreed.

"Support my decision, no matter the outcome. Please, even if it seems irrational, or ridiculous, let me make this choice for myself."

_This is why she wanted to do this with me alone._ I realized. _None of the others would leave her decisions unchallenged. And I would become a mediator instead of someone who should support her wholeheartedly._

"You're asking me to let you go." my throat tightened. "Aren't you?"

Her lower lip trembled and she nodded. "Please, Salem."

My heart lurched uncomfortably in my chest, and a memory flooded back into my eyes.

_…I lie back, watching Leliana's hands tremble as they pluck at the edge of her shirt. Her shoulders are bunched, knotted. I want to rise and massage them, but this is a battle she must face alone._

_"In the Chantry, many of the sisters bathed together," she breaks the silence. "So many had come from varied backgrounds, and all that mattered was the task at hand. It was pleasant, for a while, to forget the past, to fabricate stories…anything so as not to reveal…this."_

_Hesitant, trembling, she pulls her shirt over her head and lays it aside, allowing me to gaze on her body for the first time. I gasp, following her deep curves, drinking in the shadows as they dance across her body. She turns her back to me and I see them._

_Horrific scars cover her back. I trace them from the tops of her shoulders down until they disappear beneath her rough-spun linen pants. "I am…sorry…" she whispers, "that I cannot offer you something whole."_

_I climb to my feet and take her into my arms, rubbing her back, tracing her scars with my calloused fingers. "Shhhh, love." I soothe her, kissing away her tears. "You are whole. I love you, and these scars are part of you. Part of what I love."_

_I kiss her, assuring her with actions what I cannot say with words. She returns it, feverish, trying to burn away her tears and her memories. My hands trace up and down her sides, stopping as I feel another scar, ragged and poorly healed._

_"Who did this to you?" I ask, pulling away from her kiss. Leliana presses her head into my shoulder._

_"The one I loved…more than anything."_

_**Someone you loved…betrayed you in this way? Marred you? Tried to steal your life? Never, Leliana, will I let someone touch you again in this way. **_

_"I see." I swallow, unsure of what to say._

_"Can we speak of this…some other time?" she pleads with eyes and words. "Tonight…"_

_"I will just love you." I smile. "As you are, for who you are. Now, my darling girl, no more words."_

I snapped back to the present, remembering that moment, when I had chosen to accept Leliana, her secrets, her smiles, and her scars.

"I promise." I swore to her, knowing as we approached the door, that my own heart could be forfeit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Leliana**

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. My heart still felt as though it would break my ribs. Salem glanced at me from the door. Her eyes always held sorrow, but now her pain showed through unshed tears. I had asked so much of her. Perhaps too much.

"Are you certain, Leliana?" she asked.

_Once again, she gives me the choice, as she always has. Maker, show me the way. Help me protect her. _

"I am." I said, taking her place before the door. "I will go first, to check for traps."

"As you say." she agreed, but I heard the hatred in her voice. I knew she aimed it at herself.

Salem Cousland, a noble, a warrior, a Grey Warden…a protector above all. Ever since I had known her, she had always been the first sword into battle, the calmest voice in an argument, the strongest of us in the strangest of times. Only Alistair was bound to accompany her on this journey; the rest of our rag-tag band had joined them for various reasons.

In spite of this, Salem attempted to take every blow herself. And when she couldn't, the guilt weighed her down more than her plate armor.

_So very different from…Marjolaine_…even my thoughts choked over her name. _Marjolaine only got her hands dirty when she wanted to. She would never have sacrificed anything of herself. I am living proof of that. _

I opened the door and stepped into the room. I knelt down, feeling along the floor for wires and pressure plates. A steady presence behind me radiated ferocity.

My fingers caught on thin silk. _How very clever, Marjolaine, _I smiled. _No more resistance than a spider's web. They wouldn't even know what had happened before they were dead._

"Don't move." I warned. "Marjolaine is quite skilled. I've no idea how many of these she has put in place."

"Bloody traps." I could feel her frowning. "Forgive me, Leliana, but I think it lacks…"

"Nobility?" I needled her.

"As you say." a warning tone.

"We can't all be brave knights charging into battle." I grinned, disarming the trap and seeking more. "Fighting for truth and justice and kittens."

"I fight for kittens now, do I?" Salem laughed and I basked in it.

My joy faltered as I realized exactly what I had asked her to do before we entered this place. _What wars must she be fighting? What right do I have to ask such things of her? She has no guarantee that I will not go right back into Marjolaine's embrace…and I cannot give that to her. Perhaps Marjolaine was right to betray me. I would have done the same to her. But, _I looked back at Salem, at the determination in her eyes, the blistering calm she exuded, _I would rather die than see her in pain. I would rather die than cause her pain. Yet that is all I seem to be doing in this moment._

"Are we not all kittens in the face of the darkspawn?" I covered my mistake. My fingers discovered a pressure plate, cleverly disguised as a loose board. "Blind, helpless and in need of protection."

"Some protector I am." her bitterness grated. "Can't even find a trap."

"Even the most skilled eyes would have trouble finding Marjolaine's traps." I tried to comfort her, but those words dragged me back into my darkness. Marjolaine had trained me; molded me in her image…made me ignoble. Everything Salem was not and could never be.

My fingers found the catch and disabled it, and whatever horrible punishment would accost the unfortunate who triggered the trap.

"Then I am grateful to have one so skilled at my side." her voice felt warm, a heat that shivered through my toes. She had that power, the ability to make me feel…visible. For someone who had made their life in the shadows, being seen was the greatest gift I had ever been given.

"Not as grateful as I am to be there." I whispered, but Salem did not hear.

"Is your Marjolaine so confident in her traps that she posts no guards?" Salem asked.

"There are guards." I found two more strands of silk and sliced through them. "Somewhere. Marjolaine prefers quiet. She once killed a duke at a grand ball in Orlais in front of hundreds of people. No one saw or suspected a thing."

"Brazen." Salem breathed. "How many do you think she has?"

"Two, three at the most." I answered, remembering when I comprised one of those numbers. I would have done anything for Marjolaine…had she asked me. But Marjolaine never asked. She ordered, demanded, coerced. She could not be gentle, though she played at it convincingly. _Not like Salem. Her hands are made for greater things than warfare._

I shivered as I remembered the way my warden's hands touched me. As though I were fragile, breakable…precious. She _felt_ me, took all of me into her, then gave herself back with abandon. No secrets, no ulterior motives. When we made love it was for joy, for comfort, for hope. There was no power play, no quest for dominance.

"I hope these two or three are not of your caliber." Salem flashed a rare smile. "I fear we wouldn't stand a chance, otherwise."

"Oh, you do not stand any chance at all, little warden." an icy Orlesian accent cut into the room.

Fear sliced through me as I rose, face to face with my once-love's incinerating eyes. "Marjolaine."

"Hello, pretty thing." she cooed. "I see you got my message?"

"Your assassins?" Salem asked, folding her arms. Her voice held the chill that had daunted monsters. It made me feel cold. If I did not know the warmth that voice could hold, I would have been terrified. "We got the message."

"Oh, you are fiery." Marjolaine smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. Why had I never noticed how dead her eyes were? "But you may rest at ease. I knew those troglodytes could never harm my Leliana. 'Twas an invitation, nothing more."

"We _can_ read." Salem hissed. "A letter would have worked as well."

Marjolaine gasped in feigned hurt. "I am offended. Such simple methods are, well, beneath me. Besides, my pretty thing and I have quite terrible memories of the written word."

"Is that what this is about?" I asked, at last able to speak. "Why have you come, Marjolaine?"

"Why, for you, my pretty thing." Marjolaine stroked her hand up and down my arm. I heard the chink of armor as Salem's body went rigid. "Did you think I would not keep an eye out for you? I watched you as you left, dragging yourself back to the mud of your homeland. Why did you come back, I wonder, and what did you find in the Chantry? Surely this is not the life you wanted for yourself, Leliana. You sang for kings and wooed princes. Surely you are unhappy in this harsh land that smells perpetually of wet dog."

"I am Fereldan by birth, Marjolaine." I reminded her. "Perhaps you could rein in your insults."

"Like you reined them in with the Fereldan 'nobles' deigned to visit Orlais?" she asked, needling me. "Or did we not spend the entire night drinking and ridiculing their clothes and their accents and their laughable attempt at dancing? Well, not the entire night. Your thirst was unquenchable."

"Marjolaine," I began, but she laughed.

"Oh, the warning tone!" she clapped her hands. "Have I made you angry, pretty thing? Have I tried you to your limits? Remember how you once lashed out at me, clawed at me, begged for me to destroy and remake you?"

I watched Salem as Marjolaine spoke, watching the warden wince as though every word the bard said struck a physical blow.

"We know how that ended Marjolaine. With your knife sticking into my side and my torture in an Orlesian prison. Why have you come back?"

"For you, pretty thing. You know how I hate to leave loose ends untied. Come back to Orlais with me, little nightingale. I have missed your song. I have missed your warmth."

She drew near to me; I could feel her breath on my neck, cool and…horrible. To think I had once craved her touch, begged for a word of affirmation, slaved for her frigid affection. I cast a desperate glare at Salem, praying to the Maker that she would not hate me.

"I have not missed you, Marjolaine." I told her, drawing back. "And you only want me for my silence."

"You are traveling in different circles, pretty thing." Marjolaine's voice turned venomous. "I find you with King Cailan's bastard half-brother, the circle mage closest to the First Enchanter's heart, an Antivan Crow, and…that," she glanced at Salem, "…thing."

I bristled, but she took no notice.

"These are very powerful people, Leliana. They travel in dangerous circles. I would not want to see you hurt, my nightingale."

"The only one here who would cause Leliana pain is you." Salem growled, at last breaking her silence. "Her time is precious, so stop wasting it."

"My my my." Marjolaine smiled, but there was no mirth there. "Impatient are we, little warden? You want to take my nightingale from me? Does she sing sweet songs for you? Does she tell you tales of love, play your body like a lute? Everything she is, she borrowed from me. She was mine first, warden, and she will be so again."

Salem looked at me, but her eyes held no questions, no accusations. They simply begged me to choose. I loved her for that, for her certainty and its kindness.

"I will not, Marjolaine." I said, proud that my voice remained steady.

She turned to me and I felt frost in her gaze. "Leliana, you realize I am giving you only two options. Dying in the arms of your ill-fated warden, or life with me. I am the only insurance of safety that you have."

I gripped the hilt of my dagger. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Salem's body relax. She knew. "Then I will take uncertainty."

Her smile turned into a snarl, and once again, Marjolaine drew a blade against me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Salem**

I pulled my swords as Marjolaine drew her blades. The door behind us burst open and two heavily armored men rushed into the room. I turned my attention to them, knowing that my plate armor would keep me from avoiding Marjolaine's attacks. Leliana could handle herself…I prayed.

I dodged the axe aimed for my head and lashed out, my sword colliding with the guard's armor. A gauntleted fist struck the side of my face. I felt skin split and the world went dark for an instant.

"Salem!" Leliana's scream brought me out of the black.

I scrabbled to my feet and clutched my sword. The other blade had been knocked away. _Damn it!_ I cursed inwardly, blocking a strike to my torso. I spun opposite the direction of his blow and struck for his neck. The weak blow caught skin…enough to tear his throat open. He fell with a cry that died in a gurgle of blood.

_Leliana…_I turned to see her slammed against the door, her blue eyes hazed over and blood streaming down her face. She stumbled, and Marjolaine pulled a stiletto from her boot.

"Too bad, my pretty thing." she crooned.

_I will not let anyone harm you._ I remembered my promise. I could not see the other guard, but all that mattered was Leliana. I was too far away; I couldn't get to her in time.

I threw my sword at the bard to distract her, then rushed to her and knocked her to the ground.

"Mindless Fereldan whore!" she screamed, and ice flooded me as her stiletto slipped between the plates of my armor and into my side. Something snapped and I felt the blade grind against my ribs.

Marjolaine flipped over me with ease and struck me across the face. She leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "The blade is stuck in your skin, little warden. And it's poisoned."

"Get…your…_filthy_…hands…off of her! _Bitch!_" Leliana shrieked, grasping Marjolaine's hair. She pulled her former mentor's head back and laid her knife against Marjolaine's throat.

"Are you going to kill me, pretty thing?" the Orlesian asked. "I don't think you can, Leliana. What was between us…was too strong."

I pushed myself out from under Marjolaine, finding my sword, ignoring the pain that radiated through my entire body. _I cannot let Leliana know I'm hurt,_ I resolved. _She's in enough pain already. Poison…I wonder how long I have._

The remaining guard emerged from the shadows and rushed for Leliana. Marjolaine used the distraction, grabbed my love's wrist, and hurled Leliana over her shoulder. I dove for the guard, knocking him off balance with my blade. Without thought, I rammed my spiked gauntlets into his face. A sickening crack as his nose broke, shoving cartilage and bone into his brain.

"Salem!" Leliana called out for me. I turned and drove my blade forward, without thinking. Marjolaine gasped and clutched at her chest. I pulled my blade out and sheathed it, gritting my teeth against the pain.

_The blade is still inside, against my rib. One wrong movement and my lung will be punctured. Maker, please, let me get her back to camp. _

"Leli…ana." Marjolaine gasped. She fell to the floor. Leliana caught her, cradling the dying woman in her lap. I retrieved my offhand blade, trying to remain as invisible as possible. This was her moment, and I would not mar it with my presence.

"Marjolaine." I could hear the tears in her voice, and it broke my heart, even as a wave of dizziness washed over me. "Marjolaine…I'm sorry."

The dying bard reached up and caressed Leliana's check. "Don't fret, pretty thing. Perhaps this is…for the best."

"I loved you, Marjolaine." Leliana sobbed. "Why could you not love me in return?"

"I did, my nightingale." Marjolaine gasped, and blood trickled from between her lips. "In my…own way."

The bitch died with a smile on her face. I knew the reason. _She only smiles because she thinks she's killed me. If I die, Leliana hurts by extension…by Marjolaine's hand._

Leliana rose, covered in her blood and Marjolaine's. Sorrow screamed out from her eyes, but there was also peace. "Salem," her voice trembled and her eyes glazed over, "Salem, I need you."

I crossed to her, ripping the gauntlet from my left hand. I couldn't risk moving my right arm, let the blade twist deeper in. "I'm here, love." I assured her, reaching up and inspecting the gash near her temple. "Are you all right?"

"Shaken." her entire body began to tremble. "But standing."

"What do you wish to do?" I wondered, looking at the bodies.

"Marjolaine left me for dead." her voice chilled. "She deserves nothing less than this ignominy."

"As you say." I smiled, smoothing her tousled hair.

Leliana's eyes cleared and her fingers brushed the bloodied bruise developing on my cheek. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

_I'm fine. There's a knife in my body aimed at my lung and poison rushing through my blood, but I'm unharmed,_ my dark humor took over. "No." I lied. "If you're ready, we should get back to camp. The others will be worrying."

_Wynne, Morrigan, please be there when we arrive. I can feel the poison working already. Leliana…can't know. She would never forgive herself._

"Very well." she smiled. "But first things first."

She went to Marjolaine's bureau and opened it, revealing a beautifully crafted bow. She slung it across her back and looked once more on Marjolaine's corpse.

"I had it made for her." she explained. "It seems only fitting that I should take it back."

"You love all that you do." I whispered, understanding. "And in giving her an emblem of what you love, you gave her your heart. Take it back, Leliana. It's always been yours."

"I'm afraid…it might not be…any longer." she offered a tremulous smile. "Let's go home, Salem."

_Home. _I sighed. _She deserves the roaring fires at Cousland Hall, not a dirty camp in the wilderness with a rag-tag band of would-be heroes. But I know what she means, and I love her for it._

I followed her out the door, blood soaking through my shirt with every step.


	4. Chapter 4

**Leliana**

The sun drifted down further into the sky, painting it a bloody shade of red. In Orlais, the sunsets were softer, yet somehow less beautiful. Marjolaine had been right, Ferelden was a harsh land, but stark things could possess such beauty. I was glad for the opportunity to see this.

I gazed at the warrior walking beside me. Salem. She had fought so valiantly. Unselfish, unwavering, dedicated to me as she was to everything else she loved.

_But…she killed Marjolaine. Part of me…part of me did not wish her to die. I had hoped to assuage her fear of betrayal and let her go her own way. Offer her a chance for redemption, the same as was given to me. _

Lost in thought, I traced the streets of Denerim, missing the gleaming walls of Val Royeaux, the city that had given birth to the bard that I became. Mystery and intrigue seeped from the shadows, the ugliness covered with a veneer of gentility. Denerim's ugly secrets were splayed out for all to see, a naked grossness that most went blind to.

_But not Salem. She sees and feels everything that happens. She was meant to have been a noble, her voice in the king's ear, fighting with words, not swords. She is…too good for me. I was meant for the shadows and the darkness, for secrets and…murder._

"Salem," I needed to ask something of her, something perhaps harsher than I had when I begged her to let me go.

She did not answer.

"Salem?" I asked, stopping and looking around. The warden leaned against the walls of the city, holding her side and breathing heavily.

I walked to her and turned her face to mine. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. "Salem, are you certain you're all right?" I asked. I thought she looked pale, but, in the dimming light, I could not say for certain.

"I think," she smiled, "I think that blow to the head was harder than I thought."

"Then why are you holding your side?" I asked, unsatisfied with her answer.

"One of Marjolaine's guards struck me there." she explained. "I'm expecting a horrible bruise."

I wanted to trust her explanation, but was afraid to. _Salem is not Marjolaine._ I tried to convince myself. _She has no reason to deceive me. _Still unsatisfied, I frowned. "You look pale."

"Leli, I'm dizzy and exhausted. Other than that, perfectly all right." she pushed away from the wall and began walking again.

"I just…" I hastened after her and tried to explain, "I worry about you, Salem."

She smiled and her left hand slipped into mine and squeezed it. "I know. I'm fine, Leliana."

I pulled my hand from hers, not wishing to attract attention. Such things were common in Val Royeaux, but Fereldan was still finding her feet as a country, and anything vaguely Orlesian was despised.

_I would ruin her chance at taking her place among the Fereldan nobility._ I thought, dreaming into a future where Salem could shed the duties of a warden and take up her family's mantle. _What can I offer her? Nothing. At least, with Marjolaine, I was useful; a help, rather than a hindrance._

"What's troubling you?" Salem asked, sensing my unease.

"Nothing, I…" my voice caught in my throat…_I am too cruel_… "I just need some time to think. If you can spare me that."

"Anything you ask. As soon as we're safely back at camp, you may take all the time you wish."

"Thank you, Salem." I had never been given a requested moment's peace with Marjolaine. If ever she desired anything, it was granted without thought.

_I wish she had been given a chance to find someone like Salem for herself. Someone that would make her wish to become a better person. Instead, my lover died at the hands of…someone I love. Dear Maker, no bard would even dare pen this tale for fear of disbelief._

The two of us made it through the gates of Denerim without incident, for which I breathed a sigh of relief. I suppose people beaten and covered in blood was a normal sight in this conflicted country.

"How does your head feel?" Salem asked as we picked our way through the copse of trees that hid our camp from the city patrols.

"It's not as bad as it looks." I placated her. "Nothing I cannot remedy on my own. Dear Wynne need not be bothered."

Her eyes drifted away, deep in thought. I wondered what her thoughts were. How must she have felt, watching me hold Marjolaine as she died, weeping at the death of one who had betrayed me?

_Now that I consider it, I have never seen Salem shed tears. Not even when she told me of her family's murder. Even when waking from her nightmares, her eyes are dry. She carries the burden of the world on her shoulders. Even Alistair gave his responsibility to her. He is the senior Warden, yet she is the one we follow. How…how cruel of me to ask her to shoulder my burdens as well._ _I truly am no better than Marjolaine. _

We reached the outskirts of camp and Salem turned to me. "Wash off the blood and get some rest, dear heart." she whispered.

I knew I had asked to be alone, but I needed…_no, I want_…her beside me. "Salem…"

"Yes?"

_No. I will not ask any more from her than she has already given. I cannot. _"It's nothing."

"As you say." her smile was strained and it broke my heart.

She placed a feather-light kiss on my forehead and walked towards Morrigan's tent. Tears filled my eyes once more. But I did not know who I cried for.


	5. Chapter 5

**Salem**

I took stock of the camp when I arrived. Alistair had not returned from Denerim; neither had Zevran. And neither, _damn it_, had Wynne.

Burrow, my mabari, raced up to me, tongue lolling out, stub of a tail wagging. I gave him a pat on the head and he whimpered, able to smell the blood. I looked into his intelligent eyes and tried to smile. "Do me a favor, boy?" I asked.

He yipped.

"Go to Denerim. Find Wynne. You remember Wynne, right?"

He barked twice and danced in a circle.

"Good boy." I said, thanking him as he raced away from the camp. _Glad you survived the massacre, Burrow. Please find Wynne soon. Right now, I have no one to help me but Morrigan. _

I found the witch absorbed in Flemeth's grimoire. She glanced up and her feral golden eyes captured mine. "I see you've returned." she drawled. "How did your errand of love turn out?"

I smiled at her mockery. It had grown gentler, as though her tongue had lost its bladed edge. "Well enough, for Leliana. Not so well for me. I need your help, Morrigan."

"My help?" she gestured to herself with an elegant hand. "Whatever can I aid you with that Leliana cannot?"

"Please, Morrigan." I almost begged. My vision had blurred until I could no longer make out her features.

"Oh, very well." she stuffed the grimoire back into her satchel and followed me into my tent.

I pulled off my gauntlets and attempted to undo the straps of my breastplate, but my right arm refused to move. "Morrigan, can you…"

"I suppose." she sighed, coming closer and helping me disentangle myself from the heavy plates of metal. "Whatever have you gotten yourself into, Salem?"

"Trouble." I grinned.

Relief flooded me as Morrigan removed my armor and its weight. As my chest plate came off, she hissed in sympathy. "This happened in Denerim, I take it?" she asked, looking at the scarlet stain on my shirt.

"It did." I replied, not wanting to look down at the blood-soaked mess. "I took the blade for Leliana."

"Of course you did." Morrigan made a noise of disapproval. "What did you need me for exactly? You've known from the first that I have no skill with healing."

"The blade is still inside." my balance wavered and Morrigan caught me as I swayed, easing me to the ground. "And it's poisoned."

"What did you expect from an Orlesian bard?" Morrigan asked. "They poison more than tea, you know."

I smiled, in too much pain to laugh. "I know you have skills with herbs. Do you think you can tell what kind of poison she used?"

"Perhaps," she mused, "if I pull the knife. But, even if I am able to decipher what poison she used, that does not mean I can distill an antidote in time."

I nodded, acknowledging what she did not say with words. "I sent Burrow to find Wynne."

Morrigan pulled a small dagger from her belt and sliced through the blood-drenched material of my shirt. "Between the two of us, we might actually pull you through this, you fool."

"Thank you, Morrigan."

She pulled away, as she almost always did when I showed gratitude. Somehow, it still surprised her, even though we had traveled together for quite some time.

"'Tis quite a mess, Salem." she examined the wound. "And 'twill be very painful when I pull the blade."

"Do whatever you need to, Morrigan." I trusted the witch. We had managed to forge something of a friendship during our time together.

"Except tell Leliana, am I correct?" Morrigan smiled the smile of a cat with a bird in its mouth.

"She can't know." worry flooded through my system and my heart skipped a painful beat. "Please…please don't tell her."

Morrigan rose and smoothed her skirts. "Very well. I must go and retrieve some of Wynne's supplies. Lie down and keep still. Since you are still alive, I am willing to assume that the poison is slow moving. 'Tis very little luck in this situation, but it is something."

Morrigan left and I lay down, wincing as the blade embedded in my body scraped my rib once again. I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer.

_Maker, please, keep me safe. And give…give Leliana the peace she's waited so long for. _

"Open your eyes." Morrigan hissed. "'Twill do you no good to succumb to your exhaustion."

I opened my eyes to find my vision even worse. _Damn it._ The witch knelt beside me and her hands felt like ice as they probed the edges of the blade.

"'Tis barbed." she told me. "This Marjolaine is quite skilled at causing suffering." her voice held admiration.

"Just pull it out." I hissed.

"Bite down on this." Morrigan placed a folded cloth between my teeth. "I'm quite certain you wouldn't want your little bard to hear you screaming."

_That, _I thought_, was uncalled for._

I sensed her magic before I felt it, probing at the edges of my skin, reaching in and fastening around the blade. _I wish Wynne were here_.

"Are you ready?" Morrigan asked.

Before I could even nod, she used her magic to rip the knife out. I screamed as fire raced through my blood. The whole of my side felt as though it had been flayed and rubbed with salt.

"'Tis better to have this done quickly." Morrigan said. "I took the liberty of borrowing Oghren's whiskey. I'm certain he will not mind when we tell him what you purposed it for."

_Oh, Maker, an angry dwarf and a stab wound_, I thought before the witch splashed the liquid in the wound. I bit down hard and screamed again; tasted blood in the back of my throat.

"I'm finished." Morrigan announced as she pressed Wynne's bandages against the wound. "You'd best pray to your Maker that the hound finds Wynne quickly. Can you sit?"

I blinked the sweat from my eyes and nodded. Morrigan helped me rise and I spat the gag out, trying to even out my breathing. Black spots danced before my eyes, and I leaned on Morrigan's shoulder for support. She wrapped more bandages around my torso and eased me back onto my bedroll.

"Breathe slowly." she advised, lifting the blade and examining it. It was thin, sharp, and barbed, as Morrigan had said. Meant to cause damage on entry, and more upon exit. Cruel.

The witch sniffed the blade; touched it to her lips. "Well," she sighed, "'tis a rare enough compound in Orlais. Fortunately, here in Fereldan it is quite a common blend. As are the ingredients for the antidote. However, we are too close to the city to find them. I will have to leave for a while."

"Go then." I smiled. "I'll be all right."

"I do not think you will." Morrigan rested her hand against my forehead and frowned. "You're feverish. Leliana should be told, Salem. She and Marjolaine are cut from the same ridiculous Orlesian silk. She will have some skill in the treatment of poisons."

"Please…don't…tell her." I whispered as my eyelids fell.

The flap of my tent opened and I heard the words "…_altruistic fool._"


	6. Chapter 6

**Leliana**

I scrubbed my face and hands clean in the stream that ran behind our camp. No matter how much the soothing water cleansed my skin, I felt that nothing would ever remove Marjolaine's blood from my hands. _Even though I did not strike the fatal blow,_ I thought.

I looked at my reflection in the water, lit by the setting sun's last rays. _I look nothing like her._ _But she resides inside me, her teachings, her beliefs…her betrayal._ My hand went to the scar on my side, the memory of the wound Marjolaine had inflicted, the truth of our relationship that had led me to Fereldan. _And by extension, to Salem. Salem, who went first to the witch's tent. Why would she seek Morrigan out?_

I rose and went to the camp. Burrow, Salem's mabari, was nowhere to be seen. I felt somehow rejected. Most often, the dog would greet my return with as much enthusiasm as he showed his owner.

"Hey there, Sister." Oghren greeted me. He stood next to the fire on wobbly legs and smiled through his moustaches. "Haven't seen a bottle of whiskey 'round here have ya?"

I smiled. At least one thing was normal. "I'm afraid I haven't."

"Sod it." the dwarf grumbled, ruffling through his packs.

I turned around, struck something, and fell. I looked up; saw Morrigan's golden eyes peering down at me, amused.

"Oh, Morrigan, I'm sorry." an apology fell from my lips. "Are you all right?"

"Far better than you, little songstress." Morrgian extended a hand, surprising me. Such a gesture was unlike her. She would have aided Salem, and perhaps Wynne, but she ignored me more often than not.

I took the witch's hand and she helped me to my feet. "Morrigan…," I disliked asking questions of her, especially this one, "…have you seen Salem? We returned together, and I saw her…"

"She came only to ask a question about Genitivi's research." Morrigan assured me. "But I could make neither head nor tail of it."

_Of course_, my lips quivered and I tried to hide it with a smile, _Salem would immerse herself in work._ "Thank you, Morrigan." I turned and started towards my tent.

"'Tis possible you could help her, what with your knowledge of Andraste and the Chantry." Morrigan said from behind me. "I think it would be in our best interest to decipher his research sooner, as opposed to the alternative."

_Morrigan…encouraging me to see Salem. She has done nothing but mock the warden and myself for our relationship. Why now does she…something is wrong._

"Perhaps I can be of assistance." I allowed, changing direction. "I…thank you, Morrigan."

"'Tis no trouble but a passing thought." she smiled, seeming almost conniving. "Good night, songstress."

"Good night." I replied, still bewildered by her behavior.

I lifted the flap of Salem's tent, hesitant. I expected to see her bent over Genitivi's papers, cursing as she attempted to decipher them. Instead, I saw the warden's normal order in disarray, her armor tossed uncaringly on the ground.

_It smells like blood, _panic invaded my mind. I glanced at Salem's bedroll, saw her lying there, pale as death.

"Salem." I had imagined it as a cry, but her name emerged in a whisper. "Salem?" a little louder. She didn't stir.

I rushed to her side, knelt, and placed my hand against her cheek. Her skin was sweat-sheened, radiating heat. The bruise on her cheek looked almost black against her pallor, and dark circles nested beneath her eyes.

"Salem? Love?" I asked, praying for her eyes to open.

_Morrigan knew,_ I realized. _Salem must have asked for her help…and told her not to inform me. Why, dear heart_, I asked, knowing she could not answer. _Why would you not tell me? I knew, I __**knew**__ that something was wrong back in Denerim. Why did I not press the issue? Salem, what has Marjolaine done to you?_

I touched my fingers to her throat. Slow, irregular pulses beat against my skin. Her breath rasped.

"Salem?" I said her name again. "Salem, please, wake up. Please, dear heart."

She stirred, muttered something, and shifted. Pain creased her brow and my heart hammered against my chest. "How did this happen?" I wondered aloud, begging the Maker for some sign, some knowledge. "How did I not realize?"

"L…Leliana?" Salem's voice was soft, hoarse…not hers.

"I'm here." I smoothed her hair back. "By your side."

"What?" her eyes opened, an over-bright, fevered blue. " No…did…did Morrigan tell you? That bitch! I'll kill her!"

Salem sat up abruptly, crying out and clutching her side. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close, forcing her back down. Blood covered her shirt and stained the bandages on her side.

"Morrigan told me you were doing research!" I could not keep the anger out of my voice. True, fear fueled it, but all I felt in this moment was rage. "She said that I should help you! How could you not tell me, Salem?"

"Didn't…want…to hurt you." she gasped, and I forced my anger away. Salem needed care, not accusations. There would be time for that later.

_I hope._

"I'm all right." I lied. "Tell me what happened."

"Marjolaine." Salem swallowed. "She had you cornered. I saw the knife. I couldn't…couldn't fathom losing you."

_You idiot! I mean nothing in the grand scheme of things! __**You**__ are important, __**you**__ must stop the blight! How dare you be so foolish, how __**dare**__ you!_

"You fool." I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, wincing at her temperature.

I glanced down and the gleam of steel caught my eye. I reached for the blade and lifted it to the candlelight. _She loved this knife; the damage it could do, the cruelty of its design. Marjolaine intended to use this on me…again. _I caught a familiar scent, and sniffed the blade, inhaling deeply. _Marjolaine, you heartless fiend!_

I cast the knife aside and turned my attention to Salem. She tried to smile, but it turned into a pained grimace. I lifted the bandages to inspect the wound. The blade had gone deep and been withdrawn roughly. What was worse, deep indigo lines radiated out from the puncture, spreading across her skin.

Salem reached a trembling hand out for me. I took hers in mine and pressed my lips to it. Her fingers were frigid. "What troubles you?" she wondered.

"You've been poisoned." I answered. "With Andraste's Flames." I coughed out a laugh. "It's called that because, as it spreads, the victim feels as though they're burning alive. Strangely enough, it is made from the stems of Andraste's grace." _Stop rambling, Leliana. She's in no condition to listen to this._

"Your favorite flower?" Salem asked, raising an eyebrow in the way that always made me giggle. This time, however, I could not summon mirth.

"Yes." I answered. "It makes a lovely perfume and a deadly poison. Funny, no?"

"Hysterical." her dark humor presented itself once more, as it always did in difficult situations. "Leliana," she turned serious, "you shouldn't have to see me like this. Morrigan says she can make an antidote for the poison and I sent Burrow to find Wynne. I'm going to be all right."

_I don't believe you. I can't believe you. You deceived me, Salem. I love you more than anything and you did not even trust me enough to tell me that you had been injured. Don't push me away, my love. _

"You have no right to ask me to leave you." I told her, very strict. I rose to my feet. "I will return."

"Leliana," she called, weak, "please forgive me."

The words broke my heart. I fled the tent, grabbed a pitcher from the fireside, and walked to the stream. _Andraste's Flames._ Tears spilled from my eyes. _Slow moving, lethal, and it causes excruciating pain. So much pain you wish you were dead. Marjolaine…and I…used it for torture. It would break a person far sooner than any conventional method. _

"Salem." her name broke on a sob. "Maker, please, keep her alive. I can't lose her too."

I filled the pitcher and walked back to Salem's tent, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

_I can't lose her too._


	7. Chapter 7

**Salem**

_I walk the streets, greeting passersby, headed towards the imposing ramparts of Cousland Hall. My mother meets me in the courtyard, smiling. It quickly turns to a frown._

_ "Salem, did you forget?" she asks. "Arl Howe and his son will be here soon and you're covered in blood and sweat!"_

_ "You're welcome, mother." I place a kiss on her cheek. "The hunt went well, thank you for asking."_

_ She tries to suppress a smile; fails. "Off with you, child. Get washed and dressed, __**immediately**__."_

_ "I cannot wear this?" I gesture to my armor._

_ "Of course not!" she exclaims, before she realizes I ask in jest. "You are your father's daughter, Salem. And my ever-present trial."_

_ "I love you too, mother." I smile. "And that's why you had two children. One for a mother's joy, one for her sorrow."_

_ "So the saying goes. Scoot."_

_ I laugh and dash up the steps to the great hall, headed for my room. My nephew comes running down the hall, a giant smile on his face. _

_ "Aunt Salem!" he exclaims, jumping into my arms, unheeding of the mess. I hold him at arm's length, knowing both my mother and Orianna would kill me if I stained his clothes. _

_ "Oren!" I spin him around the room, before setting him on his feet._

_ "Did the hunt go well?" he asks, aglow with excitement. "Did you catch anything?"_

_ I ruffle his hair. "Of course we did." I smile. "Couslands never come back empty-handed." _

_ Fergus' son puffs his chest out with pride. I smile, admiring how much he looks like my brother. "'Course they do. Tell me everything, please, Aunt Salem, pleeeease?"_

_ "Tell you what," I go to my knees and stand eye to eye with him, "I will tell you everything after dinner with Arl Howe. But, if I don't leave now and get dressed, your grandmother will flay me, just like the boar we caught."_

_ "All right!" he exclaims. "Promise?"_

_ "I promise." he leaves and I continue to my room, undoing the straps on my armor as I go._

_ I rinse my face in the washbasin, enjoying the cool water on my sun-burned skin. __**Arl Howe**__, I thought, __**I do not like that man. I like less the designs he has on my as yet unwed status. **__I shiver. __**While Amaranthine is beautiful, I could not bear taking the name Howe to rule it. Perish the thought.**_

_ A knock at the door. _

_ "Enter." I call._

_ "Salem?" an Orlesian accent. "Your mother sent me with a gown for you to wear."_

_ "Come in, Orianna." I smile at my sister-in-law. I often wonder how she traded the beauties and comforts of Orlais to come to this foundling country._

_ She enters my room, holding an exquisite gown. I know immediately that it is from her wardrobe. I would never wear something with so many…ruffles._

_ "This color will look lovely on you." she holds the gown out to me. "It will compliment your hair and make your eyes sing."_

_ "Th…" I wince at the ruffles, "…thank you."_

_ "If you don't want to wear it," her accent shifts, changes, deepens, "you should wake up."_

_ "What?" I ask, bewildered._

_ "Wake up, Salem. Please."_

_ "Orianna, what are you talking about, this is…"_

_ "You are dreaming, dear heart. Please wake up."_

* * *

"Salem?" I woke up from the pleasant blur of the dream. "Salem, are you here? Are you with me?"

"I was home." I whispered. My throat felt as though it had been scoured raw. "Everyone…was alive. Leliana?"

"Of course." her hand soothed my brow. "Who else would it be?"

_You shouldn't see this_, my throat tightened with grief. _I do not want to hurt you. I wanted to take away Marjolaine's power to cause you pain. Instead, I've only poured salt in your wounds. _

"I can't see." I confessed. "Everything is…blurred." I reached out, trying to find her, to connect with her, cement my existence in this world.

She took my hand in hers and kissed it. "Do not move too much." she advised. "You've lost a great deal of blood and are very weak."

"I apologize." I tried to smile, for her sake. "But…why can't I see?"

"That would be the poison." she couldn't hide the anguish in her tone. "Andraste's Flames is known to have caused blindness."

_Oh, Maker no. _"Permanently?" I had to ask the question. I hated myself as I did, but I needed to know.

"I'm afraid so." her voice was clipped, without emotion. Not Leliana.

_I can't lose my sight! _My heart beat faster, sending painful spasms across my body. _There is still so much yet to do! Arl Eamon's life depends on me. __**Ferelden**__ depends on me. What if…what if…what if I never get to drown in her blue eyes again?_

"Leli…" my voice broke as my breath caught and I began coughing, feeling as though shards of glass cut into my throat.

"Salem!" she exclaimed. I felt strong, warm hands on my shoulders, hoisting me up until the paroxysm passed.

I gasped, trying to catch my breath, and Leliana held a cup of water to my lips. "Drink." she ordered.

I obeyed, wondering why the water tasted of copper. I lay back down, exhausted. A cool cloth was draped over my brow by trembling hands.

"Leliana?"

"Hush, love." her voice was strained. "Please don't talk. Please."

_What? Maker's breath, does my voice now cause her pain? Leli, please forgive me. I never meant for this to happen. You weren't supposed to know. This was never intended to touch you._

"Wh…what's wrong?" I asked.

"Your bandages are soaked." she did not answer. "The poison staving off your body's ability to heal."

I felt her hands on me, savoring her touch even in the bleakest of circumstances. Gentle, she removed the bandages and replaced them, wrapping them tightly until I felt my ribs would break.

"I know it's unpleasant." she comforted me. "But I have to try to stop the bleeding."

"You did not," I took a difficult, shallow inhale, "answer my question. What…is…wrong?"

Her movement stopped and her hair shielded her eyes. _No,_ I begged, _please don't hide from me. Not now. Not ever. I love you._ "The poison has reached your lungs." she whispered. "You're coughing blood, Salem."


	8. Chapter 8

**Leliana**

_How could I not have known? _I berated myself in the silence. Salem had blacked out again. Fine tremors worked their way through her body as the poison took effect. _I have used Andraste's Flames. I know, I __**know**__ the symptoms and the signs. But I remained blind. Willingly. Because of my pain, _I brushed Salem's sweat-soaked hair away from her forehead, _I did not acknowledge yours. I could have prevented all of this from happening. But no. I wanted my peace; I wanted __**my**__ resolution. And just like Marjolaine…I used the person I knew would follow me through hell and into eternity. _

I glanced at Salem's armor, strewn on the ground like a monument to the dead. _There was no visible blood from the wound,_ I tried to justify my ignorance. _The knife kept her from bleeding too heavily, and what blood there was soaked her shirt. Still,_ guilt nagged at me, _I should have interrogated her mercilessly until she opened her stubborn mouth. _

Tears slipped from my eyes and fell on Salem's hand, the hand intertwined with mine. I had no right to touch her, having hurt her in so many ways. However, I needed the contact, the warmth of her fevered skin, to keep me from falling completely to shards.

"I have no right," I whispered, "to ask for your forgiveness, Salem. That blade, that poison, was meant for me. You have the entire realm of Thedas resting on your shoulders; I had no right to ask that you aid me. I should have dealt with Marjolaine as bards have ever handled their enemies. Alone."

"Leliana." Salem squeezed my hand. "You're a fool."

"You heard that?" I gasped, suddenly ashamed. "Salem, I'm sorry."

"Not…your fault." she turned a pained grimace into a smile. _Even through her pain, she smiles for me. How does this not bring me joy?_

"Shhhh. Rest now." I urged, not wanting her to deplete what little strength she had.

We both knew the stakes. She had poison rushing through her veins, blood filling her lungs, and a deep wound in her side that stood a high chance of getting infected.

"Then tell me," her breath rustled as she inhaled and I winced, "a story. To pass…the time."

My heart lurched in my chest. "Very well." I smiled, ashamed that it wavered. Here she was, being impossibly brave, while inside, I shook apart with fear. "What would you like to hear?"

"Anything. So long…as it's…your voice."

_I don't deserve you,_ I thought for what seemed the thousandth time.

I let my fingers drift over the dark blue ink on her skin, made more brilliant by her dangerous pallor. "Upon a time gone past," I began, "there dwelt a singer of songs. Some said she was beautiful, and courted her, praying to the Maker for her smile, or glance, or even an accidental touch. Yet for all this attention, she felt very much alone in the world. So she found beauty in songs, company in stories, and began to craft these into a mask to hide behind, so that she might remain comfortably alone, in peace." I swallowed the lump in my throat, wondering why I tortured myself needlessly. _Let me share your anguish, Salem. Please, Maker, give me the wounds that should have been mine from the first._ "But then one day, as the shy singer paraded facelessly in front of yet another crowd, she saw someone who made all the music fade. Stories lost their meanings and poems seemed but trite nothings in the face of this angel. Her hair cascaded like a waterfall of midnight, her eyes shone like a thousand glittering stars, and her voice…her voice tamed lions with a whisper. The songstress stepped away from her lyre, away from her mask, and dove into the arms and heart of this wonder, this magic, this goddess with no divinity."

I looked down at Salem; saw understanding in her eyes. She knew the story I told. It could be found in no tales written by ancient men. It was not a legend passed down from generation to generation.

"The goddess, pleased with the self-made sacrifice, took the songstress under her wing, and named her Nightingale. She taught her little bird everything. The mating call, the warning bell, the sweetest song, silence. To the girl who had lived alone, learning to become one with shadows seemed a jest, seduction but another clever mask, crafted with ease. All she desired was to shine in her goddess' light, to earn a smile, or nod, or wink. And she was rewarded, for good or ill, with kisses or blows. With each she grew, until her light could have rivaled that of the one she had come to love; the one who had, carelessly, heedlessly, enslaved her."

I paused, feeling Salem's hand grip mine. "Leliana…" she managed to gasp my name before she started coughing, deep racking spasms that made her cry out with pain.

I held her, watching blood drip from her mouth, listening to the sounds of agonized gasps. I held water to her lips, letting her cleanse the taste of copper and salt from her mouth.

"Salem?" I asked, concerned. There had been more blood this time. Her chest strained more with each breath. I could feel the heat radiating from her body, even as she shivered with cold. "Salem, love, are you in," I tortured myself, "very much pain?"

"I'm dying." Salem whispered, but the words struck me like an ogre's fist.

"No." I forced her eyes to mine, praying she had not yet gone blind. "Do not say a thing like that _ever again_. You are a noble, a warden, and…and the woman I love. You are too strong for some flea like Marjolaine to bring you down."

"You were telling me a story." Salem smiled as she lay back down, but she refused to retract her statement. And I could not ask her to. Both of us knew she spoke the truth.

_Thank you, dear heart. Thank you for distracting me with this ridiculous request. _"The goddess named her nightingale her equal, and together they built a name that crept out from the shadows and struck fear in the hearts of those who sat on precarious perches of power. The songstress reveled in her newfound power, and love, drinking deep of life and damning all consequences. Trust was given only to one." _She said she would be everything for me._ _She lied. _"But a fork in the road came, where the goddess was forced to choose between her nightingale, and her own life. She betrayed the songstress with a kiss and a blade between the ribs. The nightingale's feathers were plucked, songs replaced by screams, music torn from her hands by tortures so extreme they cannot be named." I fell silent, awash in memories too terrible to recount.

"What happened…next?" Salem jarred me from them, gentle.

"The nightingale at last healed enough to fly from her captors. She fled to a land where music had been choked out by war, where death and destruction had reigned for many a year. She foreswore love even as she craved it. So the nightingale hid away in a great house, where she loved a great invisibility that called itself a god. She thought if her lover had no name and no face and no form, that she would never be betrayed, yet never be alone. And for a time, she desired nothing else."

_Until my vision. Until I saw eyes like my own that carried me out of my darkness and fears and exposed me to the sun. Your words reawakened a heart long cold, dearest Salem. I owe you much more than my life, many times over._

I opened my mouth to continue when the tent flap moved. My hand went to my dagger, waiting. A stooped form and white hair entered my vision and a silent cry of thanks filled my heart.

"Wynne!" I rushed to her, taking her in a fierce embrace, sobbing unashamedly into her shoulder.

"Burrow came to me in Denerim, half mad with insistence." Wynne said. "Leliana, what is wrong? Why are you crying, child?"

"Salem." I wept. "She's been injured, and poisoned."

Wynne patted my shoulder. "Is she conscious?"

I nodded.

"Good. I need you to go outside for a little while. Do this for me?" asked the senior enchanter.

"O…Of course." I replied, sick at the thought of leaving Salem, yet knowing she was in the best of care.

"Good, my dear." she smiled. "I can see this vigil has tired you. Now go. The others will be arriving soon and they will need to know what is happening. Do keep Alistair from a madcap rush." she looked at Salem. "Disturbing her is…inadvisable."

I nodded, squeezing Wynne's hand before I left. Burrow rushed up to me, then sat at my feet and gave a mournful whimper. I knelt down and scratched between his ears. "I know, boy." I whispered. "I know."


	9. Chapter 9

**Salem**

I swallowed grief and closed my eyes as Leliana collapsed in Wynne's arms. She had done her best to keep me from seeing it, but I knew that remaining with me in this condition had put her under a terrible strain. _It's why I did not want you to know, my love. _

Wynne ushered Leliana out of my tent and walked to me. I could sense the disapproval flowing from her. I laughed with what little breath I had left, knowing I would receive a stern, kindly lecture.

Ever professional, the senior enchanter knelt down beside me. She rested her hand against my forehead and frowned. "What happened, Salem?" she asked.

"Leliana and I," I swallowed, "confronted Marjolaine. Leli got pinned down. I knocked Marjolaine out of the way…but she had a knife."

Wynne pulled down the blanket Leliana had laid over me. I shivered, even in the warm air. "And she used it on you." Wynne surmised, pulling a healer's blade from her satchel and cutting through the bandages. Her eyes were sympathetic, but her mouth set in a thin line.

"This wound is already beginning to show signs of infection." Wynne said. "And, let's be honest, it's a wound you should not have."

"Are you saying I should have let Leliana take the blow?" I asked, becoming angry, even though I had expected her words. "Are you saying…" my words caught in my throat and I coughed, feeling sick as blood filled my mouth.

Wynne steadied me and I felt scalding energy pouring into my body from her touch. The spasm eased and I held my breath, dreading the pain from the next inhale.

"Breathe, Salem." Wynne ordered and I obeyed. I had always hated healing magic. It burned as it coursed through the body, causing pain worse than the injury.

I allowed myself to inhale, regretting it immediately. "Are you saying," I continued my question, "that my life is worth more than hers?"

"I have said exactly that before, and I am saying it now." Wynne's voice was tight.

"You're wrong." I whispered. My father had drilled into me the innate essence of leadership and nobility.

_ Remember, pup, you're no better than the ones who serve under you. In fact, they are the ones that craft your successes or your failures. Therefore, place no hardship on them that you would not carry yourself. Do not let them bleed for you when your blood could be shed. Do you understand me, Salem?_

The eager child had said yes, with enthusiasm and a single-minded desire to live up to the family's noble name. It was later that I realized the gravity of the burden my father had placed upon me.

"I am not wrong, warden." Wynne's words were laced with wisdom. "In case you have forgotten, I feel obliged to remind you that there is a Blight. There is an Archdemon to defeat, and you are the only one who can do that."

"Alistair."

Wynne placed her hand over the hole in my side and healing magic flowed in. I cried out as my muscles spasmed of their own volition. The wave of her magic left me breathless and sweating.

"We both know that the very notion is ridiculous." Wynne took advantage of my inability to speak. "Alistair is a good man, and a good warden, and I've no doubt that he will make a good king, should that be the road taken, but he is not the man meant to lead us through a Blight."

I recalled Alistair's state of mind after losing Duncan and the men at Ostagar. How he had been beside himself as I lay healing in Flemeth's hut. As loathe as I was to admit it, Wynne spoke true. He was not ready to take leadership of our strange, dysfunctional family of sorts.

"You may be right," I managed to speak, "about Alistair. But you are still wrong about Leliana."

An _angry_ wave of magic rippled through my body. My back arched as I screamed. Wynne's hands were fire against my injury, healing it even as she exacted what little was left of my strength.

"You cannot risk your life to save any of us." Wynne insisted, as she had when Leliana and I began to walk a path separate from the quest to end the Blight. "Love is a beautiful emotion, and what makes this life worth the living, but sacrifices must be made, Salem. You know that as well as I."

I grasped Wynne's wrist as I sensed power building around her hands. "I would have done this," I clenched my teeth as she began another spell, "for _any_ of you. Alistair, Zevran, Oghren, Leliana, Sten, Shale, you, and Morrigan. I would put myself in this position…for any of you."

Wynne shook her head, but I could sense a smile playing on her lips. "I had hoped you would be a good counterbalance for Leliana." she spoke, gentling her magic as she did. "Turns out you have just as foolish and romantic notions as she."

"That's how we," I winced as her magic continued working, "bear the burdens at hand. Thank the Maker you're here, Wynne."

"Why do you say that, child?" she asked, reminding me so much of my mother that I wanted to weep.

"For balance." I tried to smile, but was not sure if my body obeyed me.

Wynne held a cup to my lips. "Drink this." she urged. "It will ease the pain as the magic works. This is a grievous injury, Salem, and my magic cannot eradicate poison. You are still in a rather precarious position. All we can do now is pin our hopes on Morrigan."

_And were we anyone but who we are, the very notion would be ridiculous. But I have faith in our feral witch. She will come through. _

I finished Wynne's draught and she set the glass aside. "Try to rest, Salem." she urged. "Let the magic work."

"Wynne," I breathed as my eyes closed, "please, take care of Leliana."

"No, Salem." her smooth hand stroked through my hair. "That is for you to do. I am simply here to assure that you continue in that capacity. Rest well, warden."


	10. Chapter 10

**Leliana**

I paced outside Salem's tent, my wish to be with my warden nearly overriding my good sense. _Wynne will take care of her. All I will serve as is a distraction, which neither of them need._

"Hello, Leliana." Alistair called to me from the fire, where he stood, arguing with the straps of his armor. "Fancy giving a friend a hand?"

_Something. Anything to distract me from my thoughts. _I walked over and assisted him in undoing the leather. "Are you just getting back?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes. I tried visiting Goldana again. She still wants nothing to do with me. It's horrible really. Finally find a blood-relative who isn't a king and they want nothing to do with me, only want to talk about how much I owe them. I've got nephews…"

"They'll all be dukes of Ferelden someday." I tried to comfort him with a smile. "Goldana will come 'round, Alistair. I'm certain she's missed having family in her life."

"Do you really think so?" the insecure future king asked, looking very much like a lost puppy.

"I do." I told him the truth. "I know how very much I miss my family."

"I thought we were family now." he patted me on the shoulder. "Which reminds me, how did you fare in Denerim, with Marjorie…Margarine…"

"Marjolaine." my face fell. "She's dead."

"Oh." his awkwardness took over and he looked at the ground, kicking at it with his boot. "I'm…sorry."

_I cannot say it is all right. It's not. The wound is still too fresh. Wounds,_ I glanced back at the tent, _Salem…please be all right._

"Do not concern yourself with my problems." I told him. "The last thing I need is more of you carrying my burdens."

He glanced up at that comment, sensing something behind it, but unsure if he should press the issue. His mouth opened when a blood-curdling scream filled the air, coming from Salem's tent.

"Was that…" Alistair questioned, looking past me. "Did I hear…"

Another cry rent the night, answering his question. _Salem!_ My heart screamed, but I could not go to her.

"Salem?" Alistair asked, taking a step forward. "Salem!"

He started for the tent and I stopped him. "No, Alistair, no."

"What?" his eyes were wild. "What are you saying? Are you deaf? That was Salem's voice!"

"I know. But she'll be all right, Alistair, Wynne is with her, she'll _be all right_!"

Alistair tried to shove past me and I put my hands on his shoulders, trying to restrain him. "What do you mean, she'll be all right?" he yelled. "Andraste's ass, what happened, Leliana!?" he shook me, rough. "_What in __**hell**__ happened?_"

"She was injured." my tongue tripped over the words. "When we confronted Marjolaine, she was injured. But Wynne is with her, and she is going to heal. I promise you."

_Maker, please hear my prayer. I know Wynne is a strong healer, but even magic cannot fix everything. Be with them…with all of us._

"_What?_" his voice was fire. "Injured? How badly is she hurt, Leliana?"

I removed my hands from his shoulders, closed my eyes, and hid my face, biting my lip. He shook me again; pain shot through my head. "It's," tears stung at my eyes, "it isn't good, Alistair."

"How bad is not good?" his hand took my chin and forced my eyes to him.

Another scream from Salem's tent and my tears spilled over. "She's been poisoned." I told him. "And stabbed."

"And you say she'll be all right?!" he demanded, incredulous. "Let me past, Leliana. I need to make sure she's all right!"

"No." my words were steel. "There's nothing you can do! There's nothing _I_ can do! Do you think if I had a choice I would be _anywhere_ but her side right now?"

Alistair stopped, ill at ease with a woman's tears, but still bitter. "This is your fault." he said. "All of it. You came in here, and tore her away from our mission. You charmed her with all your songs and your wiles and your…your…_shoes_."

_What on earth…dear Maker, he's run out of words_. "Alistair…"

"No, no…nooooo." he shook his finger in my face. I had slit a man's throat for less insolence. "This…her…it's you, Leliana. You hurt her. And you let her get hurt. Your bloody madcap quest for this Margarine person…"

"Marjolaine." I corrected, harsh. "And don't you think I know all of that, Alistair? Don't think you think I know it should have been me with Marjolaine's knife impaled in my body?"

"Oh, Maker. _Impaled?_" he became despondent once again. "Salem!" he cried, shoving past me and moving towards Salem's tent. I fell, landing hard on my elbow.

"Alistair!" I shouted. "Come back here!" I scanned the camp, looking for help. Sten was patrolling the camp, Oghren had passed out with a flask in his hand, Wynne was with Salem, Zevran had not returned, and Morrigan was still out on her errand.

"Alistair!" I yelled again.

The warden did not heed me. I clawed my way to my feet and began to go after him when he stumbled back, yelling, waving his arms in the air, frantic.

I crashed to the ground again, cataloguing the number of bruises I would have when I removed my clothes.

"Bat, bat, bat, bat, bat, bat, bat!" Alistair shrieked, fending off his assailant with wild, frenetic blows.

A mixture of exhaustion, grief, and the random hilarity of the situation made me laugh. I sat there, hurting as I laughed until I started sobbing, watching as the bat harried Alistair, flying around his face, darting into his hair.

"Get it off!" he shouted, falling to his knees. "Get it off!"

A flash ignited the night and a saucy voice drifted through the blinding light. "And now you know how the songstress feels. Harried and attacked with no purpose."

"M…Morrigan?" Alistair stammered. "I thought…I thought we talked about_ swooping_."

"You talked." she brushed dust from her clothes. "I refused to listen."

"Back off, _apostate_." he snarled.

"And what good would you do your warden sister?" Morrigan asked, defending Salem and I in a surprising turn of events. "With your hovering and your worry and the excessive chewing of the nails? It is fact that Salem would prefer to have the songstress by her side, yet she is out here, being senselessly bullied by you, because it is _necessary._ Have I made myself clear?"

Alistair refused to answer her, kicking the earth and stalking off towards the stream.

Morrigan extended her hand to me for the second time this night. "Are you all right, songstress?"

"For now." I replied, grateful and confused. "What he said…"

"If there was a grain of truth in what that ingrate said, then save it to ponder another time. I could use your aid in distilling an antidote. I'm quite rusty on my work with poisons."

_Of course. Salem. _"Of course." I followed the witch to her own small campsite, safely away from Alistair and his rage, but not far enough away to drown out the cries of pain from Salem's tent.


	11. Chapter 11

**Salem**

Wynne wiped sweat from my brow. "Shhhh." she soothed. "It is just the magic burning out the infection."

_Is __**that**__ why it feels like seven shades of hell,_ I wondered.

Wynne leaned down and placed her lips on my brow. I gasped, shocked by the tender gesture. "Checking your temperature." Wynne explained. "Your fever has risen."

"'Course it has."I laughed, cutting it short with a groan. My chest felt heavy, like someone had laid a layer of bricks across my lungs.

"Don't speak, Salem." Wynne cautioned.

She laid her fingers against my throat; frowned. Clearly dissatisfied, she pressed her ear to my chest. I winced, even though the pressure was slight. I could sense that the senior enchanter was disturbed, even though my vision had darkened to the point where I could scarce detect light from shadow.

"Wynne."

"You are quite strong, warden." Wynne patted my hand.

"Not strong enough, I take it." my eyes closed.

"That you still have the power to speak is admirable." Wynne's voice thickened. "The poison is causing your lungs to bleed." she informed me. "And your body is becoming too weak to expel it. Your heart is slowing…there is nothing healing magic can do for you now."

"Well," I cracked a smile. "That's…grim."

I felt warmth on my skin, the heat of tears. Wynne wept…for me. "With your permission, Salem, I think Leliana should be here."

_To say farewell._ I realized the intent behind the healer's gentle advice. _I'm not going to die. I refuse. I will not leave Ferelden at the mercy of the Archdemon and I __**will not**__ leave Leliana alone in this world. I will bloody the Maker himself if he tries to take me from this world._

"Get her." I whispered. "Please."

Wynne rose and exited the tent. I had given up on prayer the night Arl Howe stole everything I held dear. But now, faced with losing something I held equally as dear, I opened my lips to our nameless, faceless Maker.

"Please don't…don't make me leave them. Don't take my burdens from me. My hardship has also brought…immeasurable joy. I beg you suffer me in this world…a little longer."

The tent flap rustled and I heard Wynne's voice. "Go to her, child."

Hesitant footsteps approached me. "Salem?" the voice that sounded like sunrise, purity, and all good things. "Salem, Morrigan has returned. She has the herbs and is preparing the antidote." Leliana reached out and took my hand between both of hers. "Stay strong, my love, we can weather this storm."

_I'm afraid we can't, my darling girl. _"Leli," _I cannot tell her. I cannot break her heart yet again._ "You never…finished your story."

"Salem, no!" Leliana cried out, echoing all my pain, fear, and frustration. She collapsed and buried her face against my shoulder. "Salem, please! Tell me, tell me it isn't true, it can't be true, it _can't_ be."

Her body shook with silent sobs. I wanted nothing more than to hold her, but my body no longer obeyed me. "Leliana," I whispered, "I love you, so much. I…I am…so sorry."

"Hush, love. There's no need to speak. I know. I know." she urged, attempting to keep me quiet, to save a strength we both knew I no longer possessed.

_But I've so little time left._ "Sorry I gave you…nothing to return to."

"You gave me so much." Leliana wept. "Don't leave us, Salem. Don't leave me."

_I wish I had a choice._ I fought for air. "Leli." I rasped. "Tell me…your story…how does it end?"

"No." I felt her lips on me, frantic, tear-stained. Desperate. "Maker, please, no."

_Leliana. I would give anything, anything to be able to see your eyes. If one wish could be granted me at all, that would be it. To see you, one more time._

"Leliana," I loved the way her name tripped off my tongue. "Would you?"

"The," her voice cracked, "the nightingale received a vision from her Maker, who loved her too much to keep her silent at his side. He sent her to a warrior with gleaming hair, haunted eyes, and tainted blood. He gave her a mission to aid this warrior, to remain by her side and provide the strength of her heart and the accuracy of her bow. The nightingale strode forward, even in her fear, fear of being betrayed, cast away, left bloodied and forlorn as she had been before. She went to the warrior, anticipating disbelief, hatred, abandonment. Instead," her voice hitched again, and hot tears fell on my skin, "instead…this warrior. This warrior…took her in, accepted her, cherished her. She pro…protected the nightingale, even at great cost to herself. And the nightingale, who had grown up surrounded by shadows and dancing with darkness, at last felt the warmth of the sun. Her warrior gave her true light, and selfless love."

"And they lived…" I whispered.

"Ever after." she smoothed my hair back. "Happily."

_Dearest heart, please smile. I wish I could see you smile._

"Good." I sighed, using what little breath I had. My chest felt as though it would not rise again.

"Salem?" she asked.

I wanted to answer, but could not find the air. My heart skipped a painful beat. _Soon now,_ I thought. _This is wrong! Why was I given the blood of a warden if I am to die before my purpose is achieved?_

"Salem, answer me." Leliana pressed, intense. "_Salem!_"

My body shook as it fought to stay grounded in this world. With her. With all of them. My heart skipped again…_so much pain._

"_Wynne!_" Leliana shrieked. "_Wynne come quickly!_"

Noises…voices…panic. Pain.

"Salem." Leliana's pleas crashed against my ears, "Salem, stay with me, love. Stay. Salem? _Salem? Maker, __**no!**_"


	12. Chapter 12

**Leliana**

"_Wynne_!" I screamed again, pushing my lungs to their limit. "_Wynne_!"

Salem's body convulsed in the dance of death I had witnessed too many times before. But not like this. Never like this. Not when my heart and soul were at stake.

"_WYNNE_!"

The senior enchanter rushed into the tent, Alistair and Morrigan on her heels. Morrigan took one look, assessing the dire situation.

"Alistair, out."

The warden obeyed.

Wynne knelt beside me. "What is it?"

"Her heart's not beating." I cried, feeling another wash of tears. "Wynne, do something, _anything_!"

"Get back, Leliana." Wynne gently pushed me back. "Morrigan, be ready with that antidote."

"Here, take this." I handed the witch a thin stiletto.

"Whatever for?" Morrigan eyed the blade with distrust.

"Andraste's Flames," _focus, Leliana, focus_! "Has to be introduced through the blood. The same is true of the antidote."

"Morrigan, work faster." Wynne hissed.

For once, the witch obeyed without arguing. She soaked the stiletto in the antidote mixture she and I had made, and waited for Wynne's next instructions.

"Leliana, I need your hands." Wynne said, and I scrambled towards her. "Hold her down." she instructed. "I have to try to restart her heart."

_Salem._ I looked down at her body. Her eyes were closed. She seemed…at peace. Even when she slept, I had never seen her so serene. _How selfish am I, _I asked myself, _that I want to bring her back into this life of sorrow?_

Lightning crackled across Wynne's fingertips. "If this works," she looked at Morrigan, "you will need to introduce the antidote directly to her heart."

Morrigan pursed her lips together and nodded.

"Maker, give me strength." Wynne whispered.

She pressed her hand against Salem's chest and let the lightning loose. My warden's body arched and an unholy scream tore from her throat. Even Morrigan winced. Salem collapsed back to the ground, lifeless. Again, Wynne shot lightning into Salem's body. My arms trembled as Salem thrashed. Another scream pierced my ears, hoarse with anguish.

_Maker, please give her back to us, _I whispered a desperate prayer.

"Once more." Wynne wiped sweat from her brow.

_And if it doesn't work? Do we give her up as lost?_

Wynne pressed her hand over Salem's heart, gathered force and let her lightning fly. Again, a scream, followed by a gasp, followed by Salem in my arms, hacking and coughing. Frantic, I held her to me as she shook with spasms, spattering my face and neck with her blood.

Wynne wrested the warden from my arms and looked at Morrigan. "Now." she urged.

The witch of the wilds looked from me, to Wynne, to Salem. She gripped the stiletto, but did no more. "I…I can't."

Salem's eyes rolled back and the noise of her ragged breathing went quiet.

_No. _Panic and desperation infused me. _I will __**not**__ lose her again._

I wrenched the stiletto from Morrigan's grasp, breathed deeply, and plunged the blade into Salem's heart, causing yet more damage to her already ravaged body.

Salem's eyes went straight to mine, and a heartbreaking whimper slipped past her lips. "Leli?" I had never heard such pain in her voice before.

With trembling hand, I twisted the blade and pulled it out. Wynne's hand replaced the knife, pouring healing magic into Salem's body, closing the deep wound and speeding the antidote through her veins.

Salem closed her eyes and hissed; fell silent.

_She is being put through even more pain, _my heart lurched. _Salem, can you ever forgive me? I should leave…I should leave and trouble you no more. _

"Leliana," Wynne jolted me from self pity, "take her. I need to check her vital signs."

I moved behind Salem, supporting her body. I smiled as her familiar weight settled in my arms. _Who do I jest with?_ I asked myself as I smoothed her sweat-soaked hair. _I could never leave you, Salem. And I never will._

Wynne pressed her ear to Salem's chest, disregarding the blood. Her ear came away scarlet, but there was a smile on her lips. It quickly caught, spreading to my lips, and even to Morrigan's.

"The antidote is working." Wynne informed us. "Much faster than the poison, thank the Maker. Her heartbeat is slow, but strong."

A collective sigh of relief left us all. Morrigan's amber eyes shifted and she cleared her throat. "I should…tell Alistair…that all is well." she mumbled. "The buffoon is probably tearing his hair out by now."

Wynne nodded and Morrigan left us with great alacrity.

"What about her lungs?" I asked, after the witch left. "She…she won't stop breathing again will she?"

"Her lungs are no longer bleeding." Wynne assured me. "She will probably keep coughing to expel what blood remains."

I reached out and squeezed the healer's hand. "Wynne," I said, "thank you…for everything. I cannot…cannot even…

"Salem is precious to all of us, Leliana." the senior enchanter smiled. "She has saved most of us, in one way or another. And she will continue to rescue us, from ourselves, from each other, from the Blight."

I cradled my warden against my chest, savoring the sound of her slow, even breaths. "How soon…"

"She probably will not wake for many hours yet." Wynne anticipated my question. "You should get some rest, Leliana."

"No." I was quick to refuse. "My place is by her side. I…I do not think I could sleep if I tried."

"I understand." Wynne rose to her feet, groaning as her joints popped. "I'm afraid my age and exhaustion require that I abscond for the evening."

"Please do." I encouraged her. "You've worked so hard, Wynne. Thank you."

"If anything changes, do not hesitate to wake me."

"I promise." I said.

Wynne offered me a motherly smile. "There are crushed herbs in my pack. When Salem wakes, mix them with water and have her drink it. She will be in a great deal of pain."

"Yes, Wynne. I will."

She nodded and left the tent, moving slowly. After her exit, I let myself break apart. Strangled sobs burst from my throat and tears I could not stop spilled from my eyes.

I pressed kisses against Salem's forehead, grateful she could not see me so weak. "Don't leave me again, Salem." I begged. "Don't _ever_ leave me again."

Even though she slept, she pressed her body closer to mine. It wasn't much, but to me, it meant everything. It was a promise.


	13. Chapter 13

**Salem**

_"Good morning, my warden." Leliana wakes me with a smile, her hand lazily strolling over my skin. Pleasant shivers rush down my spine. _

_ "Good morning, dear heart." I lean towards her, touching my lips to hers in a chaste kiss. Unsatisfied, she deepens the kiss, hungry, searching, desperate for connection. _

_ She only pulls away for oxygen. "I love it when you call me that."_

_ I chuckle, savoring the lack of urgency in this morning. No monsters to slay, no Archdemon to defy. "Why?"_

_ Her brow creases in discomfort. "Because. I have never been called something so…intimate…before."_

_ "No?" my interest piques. "Whyever not?"_

_ "With Marjolaine it was always, 'pretty thing' or 'nightingale'." sorrow laces her voice. "With anyone else it was—well—no one else ever meant anything to me. Even so, those I was with never called me anything that made me feel close, wanted, or loved."_

_ "Do I make you feel loved, Leliana?" I ask, desiring an honest answer. There were a few boys back in Highever who fancied me before they realized I wanted nothing to do with them. And there had been a few women…but none that captivated my interested and enveloped my entire being the way Leliana did. I had never known what it was to love someone, to share my heart and soul, open my secrets, bare my scars. Not until she came into my life. _

_ "You do, my warden. More than any I have known before." she seals her words with another kiss, a silent promise._

_**I do not want to wake up,**__ I relax into Leliana's lithe, toned arms and skillful, dexterous fingers. __**There is something beyond this moment that I do not want to face. Can this never end?**_

* * *

My heart screamed inside my chest. It felt…damaged. Bruised. _What in seven hells happened? Is it still dark? I cannot see._ I experimented with movement, lifting my fingers. Fire exploded across my nerves and I gasped. Air caught in my throat and I started coughing. My heart slammed against my chest and pain coursed through my blood like lightning.

"Salem?" Leliana's voice, close and worried. "Salem, love, are you awake?"

I couldn't answer, waiting for the coughing to cease. After what seemed like an eternity, it stopped. My abused lungs drank in air. I gritted my teeth as tears of pain spiked behind my eyes. I refused to let them fall.

"Leli?" I rasped. My mouth tasted like blood. "How…how long have I been away? I didn't want to leave such…such a pleasant dream."

A warm pressure on my forehead. "Are you here, love?"

_Am I here?_ I wondered. "Where…was I?" I asked.

"You've come back." she said, breathless, hopeful. "Thank the Maker."

_This is all quite bewildering. _"Leliana, I'm…I'm very confused."

"Oh," she chastised herself, "of course you are. And I'm not helping anything, am I?"

"What time is it?" I asked.

"A few hours before sunrise." Leliana paused, guessing. "I think. Time has rather smeared to a blur."

_You sound exhausted, dear heart._ I reached out in the direction of her voice, restraining a cry of pain. "Leliana, are you all right?" _Can you ever forgive me?_

Her hand grasped mine, shaking with fine tremors. She brought my hand up and pressed her lips against it. "You…you left me, Salem. Your heart stopped beating, you weren't breathing." I felt her tears wash over my hand. "You seemed so peaceful, free from your burdens and your nightmares. I felt so selfish, knowing that saving your life would only cause you hurt. Wynne had to force lightning into your heart to bring you back. Three times. You screamed, Salem. I knew the pain had to be unbearable. And then…then I had to put a knife in your heart…"

The reasons why poured out in a tumble of words filled with guilt and self-recrimination, but they meant nothing to me. All that mattered was the pain that poured from her in waves. I pressed my hand to the ground and _begged_ my body to obey me. I forced myself to sit up, biting my lip until it bled. I wrapped an arm about Leliana's trembling form and pulled her close.

"It's all right, love." I whispered, unable to summon the breath for actual speech. "I'm…here. In this world. With you."

"Salem, you shouldn't…"

"Hush." every muscle in my body spasmed, every nerve cracked, but I remained where I was, adamant in my position. "I love you, Leliana." she turned her face into my shoulder and I kissed her tears away. "I would not care if you ran me through a thousand times, I would _still_ love you." My lungs began to feel heavy in my chest. "Thank you, dear heart." gratitude overwhelmed me. "Thank you for bringing me back."

"But I…Salem, what I did. I should never have hurt you. Not after all you have already been through."

"A thousand times." I swore, reminding her.

The weight in my lungs grew heavier, drowning me. I coughed, feeling knives through my chest again. A ragged scream at last tore through my defenses.

"Salem!" Leliana exclaimed, wrapping me in her arms and easing me back down to the ground. "You little fool; you shouldn't even be moving. I should never have…"

"You…needed…me." I gasped in between spasms so harsh I felt they would shatter my ribs.

"Stop!" she cried, wiping blood from my lips. "Just stop, please. For once, Salem, for _once_, please, consider yourself! You didn't even think did you? You charged into Marjolaine's knife without _even thinking_!" her voice broke and she sobbed, interlacing her fingers with mine. "Never do that again, Salem. Not for my life, not for anyone else. Promise me, my warden. Promise me."

_My darling girl. You would ask a river to change its course, and it would agree. _"I…I can't do that, dear heart." I gave her the only thing I could. Truth.

"And I love you for it." she admitted. "Love you and hate you. I cannot bear the thought of losing you again."

"So do not think on it." my dark humor made her laugh. I smiled, but it quickly turned to a wince and I hissed as pain overtook my body yet again.

"Oh, sweet Maker, I've gone daft." Leliana reproached herself. I heard her rustling, then the sound of water being poured. "Wynne said you would be hurting when you woke. Are you in…very much pain?"

I smiled again. Leliana could weave any shadow into a personality, change her name, and her entire self. But with me, she was tender, vulnerable, wearing an identity still new to her. Her own.

"Some pain." I answered, lying for her sake. "It is nothing insurmountable."

"Drink this." she held a cup to my lips.

Obedient, I swallowed, tasting the familiar bitterness of elfroot. Leliana's hand smoothed my hair. "Try to sleep, my love." she whispered.

_And leave you to the company of your guilt? No._ "Join me." I invited. "You're exhausted, Leliana. Please, rest with me?"

"I do not wish to risk injuring you again." she said, but even her trained voice could not mask her desire to accept my invitation.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take." _If I can't see you, I need to feel you._ _I am more vulnerable than any of you see…and that is not fair to you. _"Leliana...I—I need you."

"Need…me?" she asked, stunned. She had never before been needed. Only wanted, only used, torn, and scarred. All for the hope of being loved.

"More than life itself." I told her, overjoyed as I felt the warmth of her body and felt her head nestle against my shoulder.

"Am I…hurting you?" she asked, hesitant.

"No." I ran my fingers through her hair. "Sweet dreams, dear heart."

I smiled when she said nothing, already asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Leliana**

In the Chantry, the sisters rose with the sun, gathered for morning prayers, and divided the day's tasks amongst themselves. The routine had been easy to accept. It provided consistency, structure, peace. Those were now things from what seemed a distant past.

In the warden's camp, sleep was a rare commodity, snatched at the odd moments when we were not fending off the darkspawn, evading Loghain's men, or helping some hapless stranger in dire straits. Thus it was that when I woke, I reached for a weapon I did not carry.

"Rest easy, Leliana." Wynne's voice floated to me from the opening of Salem's tent. "It is only I."

"Wynne." I breathed, orienting myself in the waking world. "You startled me."

"My apologies." the healer smiled as I bade her come inside with a gesture.

I yawned and my jaw popped. "What time is it?" I asked.

"Two candlemarks past sunrise." Wynne handed me the bucket of water she had brought and I washed my face, rinsing away the tears and sweat from yesternight's ordeal.

"Thank you." I said and the senior enchanter nodded. "I did not mean to oversleep."

"Don't be nonsensical, dear girl." Wynne chided, though her tone was kind. "I would have let you rest longer had not Alistair and the Antivan been pestering me since first light. When they threatened to assess Salem's condition for themselves, I thought it best that I disturb you."

"You are a wise woman." I complimented her with a smile.

She returned it and knelt next to Salem, monitoring her breathing, measuring her pulse, taking her temperature.

"Has she woken at all?" Wynne asked.

"During the night." I replied, remembering her cracked, bloodied lips kissing the tears from my cheeks. "She coughed some and spoke a little. I gave her the herbs from your pack. How…" _how I never wish to ask this question again, _"how is she?"

Wynne smiled. "There is color in her cheeks, her pulse is steady, no fever, and though her breathing is still labored, it's even. She's doing quite well for someone who nearly embraced the Maker."

"Don't remind me." I looked off into the distance.

_Was it truly such a short time ago? _I wondered. _Was it mere hours ago that the light of my heart threatened to go out forever._

Wynne said nothing, merely busied herself with examining Salem's wounds. She lifted the bandages away. Salem's skin was raw, red, already puckering into a scar.

"Excellent." Wynne said, but she spoke to herself.

Her hands moved to the bandages around Salem's heart. I turned away, unable to look at the damage I had inflicted on my lover's body.

"Are you all right, child?" the healer asked.

"Would you understand if I told you that I did not know the answer?" I whispered. Memories of last night overwhelmed me. Salem, pushing her broken body to its limit, embracing me, trying to take away my pain.

"I would. Go and get some air, Leliana. Stretch your legs and calm your mind."

_The last time I left this tent, I was called back to tell the woman I love good-bye. I do not wish to leave her side. What if something should happen and I never hear her voice again, feel the touch of her hand, savor her warmth next to mine?_

"She is out of mortal danger, Leliana." Wynne placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I understand your fears, but they will never cease haunting you unless you face them." she smiled and her eyes crinkled. "I am wise, remember?"

I shook my head, admitting my defeat. "I won't be gone long."

"Tell Alistair to stop pacing." Wynne called as I left.

I walked outside and winced as the sun struck my eyes. I breathed deep, savoring air that was not tinged by the smell of blood. _Wynne, you sly fox. How did you know this would soothe me?_

I glanced at the smoldering remains of last night's fire, laughing aloud as I saw a very stiff, unhappy Grey Warden pacing around it. He lifted his head as my laugh rang out.

"Leliana." he ran towards me; stopped short. "You look terrible." I stared at him, speechless. He stared awkwardly at the ground. "I…I'm sorry. For that. And for last night. I was out of line and I…hurt you."

I wrapped the poor man in a hug. "We were none of us ourselves last night." I told him. "So do not trouble yourself."

He pulled out of the embrace, clearing his throat and shaking out his shoulders. "Ah…er…right. How is she, Leliana? Is Salem all right?"

"Wynne said she is out of danger." I delivered the good news and watched his body sag with relief.

"That's—that's excellent." he exclaimed. "Did she say when we can leave? Morrigan and Zevran both spotted Loghain's men on their watch last night. I don't think the guards have made us yet, but I do not like them this close."

_Of course. Maker, could you give us even one day out of danger? Is that too much to ask of you?_

"I don't think traveling will be an option for a while, Alistair." I broke the news. "Salem is very weak. We cannot jeopardize her health by moving."

"I know." the senior warden nodded. "But I don't like endangering our necks either. Salem would kill me if anything happened to you."

"Or you." I looked him directly in the eye. "Or Wynne, Zevran, Morrigan, Shale, Sten, Oghren. She cares for us all. I know she doesn't say it, Alistair, but you remind her of her brother." _Only more of a buffoon_.

His cheeks flushed. "Do I now? That's…slightly strange. Not quite sure if I like being put alongside a dead man."

_She does not know if he's dead,_ I remembered her telling me that. _But she will not waste time with foolish hopes when so much yet remains to be done. Dear Salem, you needn't prove to us the breadth of your shoulders by taking all the world onto them. _

"Consider it a compliment." I offered. "Salem holds her family very dear to her heart. Not many things get so close."

"You did." he said, barely repressing a bitter tone.

It was no secret that Alistair had fancied Salem a great deal, but she had never looked on him as anything more than a brother.

"I was blessed." I replied, realizing for the thousandth time how true that was. The Maker instilled love in every heart, but not everyone found that love returned by another.

"Right." Alistair forced cheer into his voice. "I should tell the others. And try to conceal the camp a bit more."

"Thank you, Alistair."

He left and I basked in the sun, stretching muscles taut with too many hours spent in worry.

_Worry that eased when she took me in her arms. Worry that vanished when she confessed her need for me. I do not know what it is to be needed. But I am glad, glad that I can give her a measure of security and comfort._

I walked the perimeter of the camp, surprised by the energy I felt. Last night I had closed my eyes and fallen into an immediate, dreamless sleep.

_My nightmares fade away in Salem's arms, _I realized, _but I cannot take hers away. Her tainted blood and darkened past breed nightmares that no one could alleviate. And still she sheds no tears_.

I began walking back towards Salem's tent. Wynne met me by the fire, her brow wrinkled with concern. My heart fluttered unpleasantly in my chest.

"What is it?" I demanded. "What's wrong? Is Salem…"

Wynne put a hand up, stalling my questions. "Salem is very weak, but that is to be expected."

"Then _what **is** **wrong**_?"

Wynne took a deep breath; met my anxious gaze. "The antidote only eradicated the poison. It could not reverse the effects. Leliana, Salem is blind."


	15. Chapter 15

**Salem**

I could feel the warmth of the sun, but could not see it. I had not been threatened by this last night, when I knew all was dark, but here, in the heat of day, I was unsettled.

_Irreversible._ I pushed my hand through my hair, sighing. _No magical or medicinal means to fix it. Those were Wynne's words. Maker, why? Why this, why now? Scars I can endure, blood I can lose, but my eyes, my sight. I'm more useless than Oghren when he's flat out drunk._

The tent flap rustled and I looked towards the sound, shaking my head as I realized the futility of the gesture. _Blind_, the word rang inside my mind like a death knell. _Blind. Worthless. Broken. Burden. That is who I am now. _

"Salem?" Leliana asked, her voice timid. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." _I want to see your eyes, my darling girl. That is all I wished for when I was dying; the one hope that gave me the will to return to you. I did what I did out of love! Cannot heaven see and understand?_

A warm presence lay down beside me and a gossamer kiss brushed my cheek.

"You look very grim, love." Leliana whispered. "What troubles you?"

"I suppose Wynne told you." I turned my face away and closed my eyes. I did not want her to see them, fractured as they were, unable to reciprocate her gaze.

"Did you ask that she not?" Leliana wondered, resting her hand on my thigh.

"No. Everyone should know. That way they are prepared to make up for my shortcomings. I will not preserve my pride at the risk of endangering everyone else."

"Shortcomings?"

"As a leader. As a warden. I've…I've failed them all, Leliana." my voice came dangerously close to cracking. "You were right…last night. I didn't think. I acted in what I thought were the best interests of the moment, and now all of Ferelden hangs in the balance."

I clenched my hands into fists; my nails cut half-moons into my palms. Leliana reached out and gently pried my fingers apart. "None of that, my warden." she said. "You saved me from the fate you now must wear. If anyone must carry the blame for this, it should be me."

I did not reply, letting the quiet and my self-loathing speak for me. My heart cracked as I heard Leliana's muffled crying. I turned into her embrace, wincing as my healing wounds twinged.

"Don't." I begged her, tentatively feeling my way towards her face. I brushed her tears away with my thumb, hating that I caused her more suffering. _Maker's breath, what have I done? This guilt is my own. She should not feel the need to wear it. _"Don't cry, Leliana."

"But the fault is mine." she sobbed. "I take so much from you, Salem. I asked that you help me with Marjolaine, and you saved my life at the cost of yours. You died, Salem. You died for me. How could I be," her breath hitched, "so impossibly _selfish!_ I only wanted to aid you in your mission and instead I've jeopardized it! You should have only those who would not use you at your side."

She rose and I heard her walking away. "Leliana." I said. "Leliana? Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving, Salem." her tone was ice. "Ferelden needs a savior. It needs you. My being here risks your life, and I refuse to be such a hindrance."

_No. No no no no no no no no. _my heart raced. _Don't leave me, Leliana, don't go. You are the one ray of hope in this world that I possess. Don't take that from me out of some misplaced sense of guilt. _

"Burrow?" I called, hoping my mabari was within earshot. "Burrow!"

I paused, breathing heavily. _Maker, I'm a mess. Not even the breath to shout with. But I have to do this. For her, for me, for us. Yes, even for Ferelden. Because without the promise of Leliana at the end of the battle, this world is not worth preserving. I am not that altruistic._

"Burrow!" I called again, holding my side as pain shot through me.

A familiar bark rang in my hearing and the tent rustled. Burrow bounded towards me and shoved is face in my shoulder, wriggling with joy.

"Easy, boy." I ordered, and he stood still.

Hesitant, I reached out, pressing my hand against his shoulder for support. "Stay, Burrow." I said, knowing he would obey.

Gritting my teeth, I sat up, feeling every muscle protest. _You've been through worse, Salem._ I berated myself. _This is the result of your thoughtless words. Leliana is leaving because of something that is __**your**__ fault. Fix it. After all,_ I bit my lip as I staggered to my knees, _a Cousland never returns empty-handed. They never walk away from a battle without some shred of victory. I will not fail my family, and I __**will not**__ fail my heart. I refuse to abandon Leliana. I will not force her to return to that world without love._

I leaned against Burrow, breathing as deeply as I dared. Sweat broke out on my forehead. _Get on your feet, Cousland!_ I screamed within. _Your wounds are healing, the poison is gone. Who cares that you're blind? It is nothing that has not been surmounted. Now get on your feet!_

I forced myself to my feet, unsteady. Burrow shifted to better take my weight. _Good dog._ "I can't see, boy." I told him, hoping that his mabari intelligence extended this far. _Maker, grant me one boon. _"I need you to take me to Leliana. Can you do that?"

He yipped an affirmative. He started off and I nearly fell. "Slowly, boy." I chided.

I felt lightheaded as I took one painstaking step after another. _How could I even dream of wielding a sword in this state, much less cutting down the Archdemon? I cannot even walk. _

I brushed past the tent's entrance, feeling somehow naked in the world I could not see. Wind whipped past me, catching in my lank, dirty hair. I could not see the ground before my feet, or ascertain where any of my companions might be. _These revelations can wait._I chided myself.

"Burrow, find Leliana." _She's all that matters now. _


	16. Chapter 16

**Leliana**

Tears blurred my vision once again and I dashed them away, angry. _Find your strength, Leliana._ I ordered myself. _You have been through worse. This time you are not bleeding, you won't be tortured, and your greatest enemy is no longer a threat. _I paused, trying to even out my hectic breathing. _And my safety is guaranteed at the cost of the one dearest to my heart. Salem put herself in harm's way for me. I cannot risk that happening again. _

I pinched the bridge of my nose, remembering. Remembering how Salem had sneaked into my tent, whispering with laughter. How she had told me of Wynne's warning, a roguish smile on her lips and a wicked light in her eyes. Her eyes…a brilliant silver-blue that I had never before seen, not even in all my travels throughout Thedas. Those eyes were usually lost in thought, haunted by memories, or flashing in battle, but every now and again, they shone with a light. A light that was mine. It held warmth and comfort, two things I had known all too rarely.

_And that such a light existed is enough to sustain me. I will return to the Chantry, I suppose. But not in Lothering. That place is dead now. _

I gathered the last of my belongings and tossed them into my satchel. I would go back to Orlais, take my final vows, and enter the service of the Divine.

I looked around the tent, satisfied by its emptiness. My gaze fixed on the bow I had given Marjolaine…so long ago. I lifted it, hearing its song, touching the fine carvings on the wood.

_Salem said this was my heart,_ my throat tightened. _That everything I am is represented in the tools that I use. _

I set the bow down, leaving it behind, abandoning my heart. _It's yours, Salem,_ the last tear I would allow myself fell. _It always will be. Farewell, my love. My heart._

I turned to leave the tent that had been my home these few arduous months…dropped my satchel and quiver to the ground.

Burrow barked a "good morning" to me. Salem leaned heavily on the mabari, clenching his neck with a death grip. Her sightless eyes pierced my soul.

_She's white as a sheet_. "Salem, what…what are you doing here?"

"Leli." she gasped, slumping to her knees, swaying as though she were about to faint.

I rushed to her, took her in my arms, supporting her. Her skin was cold, even though she was soaked with sweat. "Salem, you…you _idiot_!" I exclaimed. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Trying to…" her voice was a mere whisper of breath against my ear, "…stay alive."

Shock rippled through my system. "What?"

"If you leave," she said, "I will not be able to go on."

"Do not be ridiculous." I shook my head.

"Leliana, please, _listen_." Salem begged.

I calmed myself. _I owe her this…and so much more_. Salem shivered and I pulled her closer to me, trying to share my warmth. "I'm listening."

She took my hand in hers and pressed it, hard, against her side. What little color remained in her face drained out. I tried pull away, alleviate her pain, but she gritted her teeth and kept my hand in place. At last, when we could both bear no more, she let me remove my hand.

"Salem!" I gasped. My hand was stained crimson. I held her up, watching a scarlet stain spread over her heart. "Salem, you've re-opened your wounds. Stay here, I need to get Wynne."

"No." she growled, her voice low with authority. "I can lose more blood. I ca—can't lose you." She inhaled, her breath trembling. "This," she forced my palm against her wound once more, "is not yours. It does not…belong…to you."

_Yes. It does._ "Salem…"

"You were wrong." her blood trickled over my fingers. "I did think. When I saw Marjolaine, with her knife, I did think, Leliana."

She fell silent and I found myself unable to speak. _Say __**something**__, Leliana. _I screamed at myself. _If you don't, you'll find your lover dying in your arms again. I…I couldn't survive that._ "Then what in the Maker's name went through your mind?" I asked.

Salem leaned in, brushing her lips against mine. They were so cold. "That I would see you unscarred." she whispered. "That you had suffered too much at the hands of someone who claimed to love you. I wanted…wanted to keep you from that."

"But if I wasn't with you, if you didn't love me," I rushed to take blame, "this would never…"

"_No_." Salem insisted. "This wound is not yours. No blame for this scar will rest on you. It is mine, Leliana, and it is my gift to you."

_I am not worth such a price._ "I…I can't accept this." more tears spilled from my eyes and I cursed.

"Please, Leli." Salem pleaded. "It's all I have to give."

_It's everything._ I realized. _It is everything that you are. Never before have I known a love that simply…gives. And asks nothing in return but my presence._

"It's too much." I whispered.

"It's not enough." Salem's gentle reply. "I am a warden. My destiny is set. All I have left, all that is truly mine, is the way I live my life."

"But your eyes…"

"If…" she interrupted, "…if the Urn of Sacred Ashes does exist, then I need not worry. But I cannot make that journey without you."

For the first time since I realized Salem had been wounded, I felt hope. There might be a chance to undo the damage that loving me had done her. "Salem, I…"

"Please, Leli." I gazed into her broken eyes. They were wet with the tears that streaked down her cheeks. "Stay." she buried her head in my shoulder. "Stay."

_Wha—what is this? After all she has endured, all the hardship life has dealt her, and the thought of losing me is what brings her first to tears? Oh, Maker, what have I done to deserve this woman?_

"I'll stay." I pulled her close once more. "I do not think I could have brought myself to leave. You are," I glanced at Marjolaine's ill-fated gift, "the only thing I need."

"Thank you." her voice grew faint. "I love you…so much."

I kissed her hair. "I love you too. Now let me get you to Wynne. You're still bleeding."

"All right." she smiled, needing only my assurance, my presence. I was terrified by the strength of her fragility.

"Lean on me." I guided her, placing her arm about my shoulders.

Salem hissed and Burrow whined, smelling the blood. "Can you make it?"

"Have to…try." Salem coughed out a laugh.

I stood, slow, taking as much of Salem's weight as she would allow. "Stay with me, love." I urged her. Wynne would slaughter me if Salem's condition worsened.

"I'm…here." she swayed on her feet and collapsed.

I twisted to catch her, protecting her from the ground. Burrow barked, trying to wake his master. I checked Salem's pulse. Too fast, but not yet dangerous. She breathed still, slow, and even. "Go get Wynne, boy." I told Burrow. He bounded out, intent on his mission.

I lifted Salem in my arms, glancing at the shadows beneath her eyes. _I would see you unscarred,_ her words rang in my mind as I carried my warden to her tent. _Why would you wish this, Salem? Why, when you know I am already damaged? You..you see only what little beauty I possess, do you not. My darling, beautiful girl_.

Wynne rushed up to me, Burrow at her heels. "What's happened?" she asked.

"A great deal of stupidity." _on my part._ "She's re-opened her wounds and over exerted herself."

"Knowing Salem," Wynne gave me a warm smile and her hands lit with healing magic, "I'm certain it was for a good cause."

"Or a lost one." I muttered, easing the warden onto her bedroll, letting the senior enchanter examine her wounds.

"You're far from that, Leliana." Wynne comforted me. "Our warden sees it, and so do I. Thank you, child."

"Whatever for?" I asked, touched and taken aback.

"For remaining with us. With her."

"There is nowhere I would rather be." I smiled down on Salem. "Is she all right?"

"She needs rest." Wynne rose and dusted off her robes. "The damage done was minimal. No cause for worry, dear girl. When she wakes, give her water and some food. Unfortunately, we do not have the luxury of time. She will have to recover quickly."

"Thank you, Wynne." I found my voice cracking. "You've saved the one last thing I cherished."

Wynne reached out and squeezed my hand. "We both know why Salem is still with us, Leliana."

I hung my head, afraid of my joy. Wynne understood, patted my shoulder, and left. I sat beside Salem and guarded her rest. Marjolaine's bow lay abandoned in my tent. It would not see use again. It was no longer my heart.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** _Thanks to all who read, especially those who read and reviewed. As per the usual, I must insert the disclaimer that Bioware owns everything. Also, I've been considering writing a sequel to this fic. Read, review, let me know what you think. And thanks again,

~Raven


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